


Parental Padfoot

by ashycanoe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, F/M, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Hogwarts Sixth Year, O.W.L.s | Ordinary Wizarding Levels, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Ravenclaw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashycanoe/pseuds/ashycanoe
Summary: A multiple-part story in which Sirius Black has a daughter named Claire Evans Black. We follow her as her father is released from Azkaban and she is taught what the normal teenage Wizarding life is.Rated teen for vivid depictions of violence and heated, but not explicit, romance.Ron Weasley x OC Black character.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Ron Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black & Remus Lupin
Kudos: 5





	1. 1.

"I'll be with you soon, Claire!" Sirius cried, fighting and squirming against the tall wizards. She didn't want him to go, not at all. More so she didn't understand why he was now under a binding spell. 

"Da!" she ran forward to try to comfort her father or at the very least have one last hug. The wizards stepped in front of her. 

Tears streamed down her face and sadness swirled and brimmed in his eyes. He whispered an 'I'm sorry' to Claire and she ran back to her mother, tears soaking her skirts. 

"I know, I know. All will be right soon." She kept her face in the skirts. If she lifted them she knew she wouldn't like what she saw. 

The door was open, she could feel the bitter cold sweep around her ankles. 

"Tabi, please, tell them it wasn't me!" Mother's hands drew around her back, pulling her up around her waist.

"I love you, Rus, we will fight for you!" 

"I love-" the door shut, cutting off what may have been her Da's last words to her. 

She jumped down from her Mother's legs, tumbling down and slamming her chin on the cold wood. 

Her eyes shot open and she sat up, breathing hard. Her hands went to her chin. It didn't hurt but she had been crying in her sleep. Dry tears stretched her face out slightly so she rubbed them away. 

She'd had that dream again. That horrible, horrible dream she so badly wanted to shake. 

Da had been accused of killing a friend of his and others via a violent explosion. He was later convicted because apparently, a finger symbolizes that someone is in fact dead. 

It was quite a stupid reason to send someone to Azkaban she thought, leaning over slowly to touch her toes. A groan escaped her tense and thin body. 

It had been fifteen years since that door was slammed shut, fourteen since Da had been christened "The Mass Murderer Sirius Black" and eight since the door had been opened by a human. 

The wood creaked beneath her as she gathered the day's clothing and donned it.

After Mother died there was simply no reason to go out anymore. The pavement connecting her neighbors and her was brimming with childhood memories and the rusty toys near the bins served as a reminder of what may have been. 

She had no reason to visit her Mother's grave, the flowers laid on the steps of the Black mausoleum were made everlasting by Kreacher so it only served as a crying space and Claire hated to cry. If she ever had the want to talk to her Mother, seances have always done the trick. 

Either way, that dream had kept her asleep for longer than expected, as her stomach told her whilst going downstairs. She tiptoed past a portrait of her grandmother, willing her stomach not to make a sound as the slightest disturbance would cause the old woman to shriek from beyond the grave. 

"Good morning Madame!" A bright Kreacher exclaimed from the kitchen. 

"Morning Kreacher, what time is it?" The elf stopped stirring the concoction in a pewter pot on the stovetop and jumped from the stool he had used for a boost.

"Tis ten in the morning, ma'am." he tottered over to her and pulled out a chair slightly. With her skirts gathered around her, she sat and folded her arms on the warped wood of the dining table.

"Any mail?" Asking this question had become a habit of Claire's. Her mother had always done it, even when her health was grim. There was never any, but inquiring about it was part of the routine at the house. 

To her surprise though, the old elf nodded slowly and pulled a letter from his waist skirt. 

"Methinks it's some type of howler, ma'am." The elf cowered away, not being accustomed to loud sounds. 

Claire took the letter, admiring the swirly 'M' pressed into purple wax over the lip of the letter. 

"It looks like it's from the Ministry, Kreacher. I doubt they'd send us a Howler. That would be very unprofessional indeed." the elf straightened again, Claire's words soothing his anxiety. He went back to the pot on the stove. 

Just as she was going for the butter knife to cut away the wax, the letter ripped itself from her hands and hovered for a moment. It folded and contorted so that the stamp turned into plump lips and a high, official-sounding voice resonated through the lips. 

"Dear Ms. Black, the Ministry is delighted to inform you that your father, Sirius Black's case is up for a retrial this coming Monday. Evidence has come to light to suggest that he did not cause the explosion that killed Peter Pettigrew. Unfortunately, that is all we can say until the trial is underway. The Wizengamot will be holding a full-court and dedicating their waking moments to assuring the right sentence, or none at all may be agreed upon. You are cordially invited to attend the sentencing on the following Monday. Hoping you are well, Amelia Bones, Department of Magical Law Enforcement." 

The letter then caught fire and turned to ash, some floating onto Claire's blue skirt. She brushed it off and, with tears brimming in her eyes whispered, 

"Do you think I should go?" Kreacher stepped forward and put a gnarled, wrinkly hand on his Mistress's knee. "Methinks that if you don't and Master Sirius is released it will do more harm than good."

"And if he is not?" Her head rested in her hand. 

"Then you will have gotten to see him once again and he will have gotten to see you once more." She could not deny that. 

Father would be so sad to look around that dark courtroom and not see anyone he loved. And what if he did, by some logistical miracle get released? He'd be in no state to travel alone and when he returned to the house to find his daughter quite alive and well what would he say to her? No, she had to pluck up some bollocks and go. 

"Kreacher?" she turned her head. The old elf presented her with a bowl of oatmeal. She took it. 

"Yes, Mistress?"

"I'm going to the sentencing."


	2. 2.

“Mr. Black’s lawyer has expressed every confidence that if the Wizengamot have accepted his evidence he should have no problem getting the largely believed to be innocent Sirius Black free of charge.” Claire clung the paper to her chest, smiling until it hurt. Once it did, she put the newspaper on an ever growing stack of magazines, Daily Prophets, books and paparazzi photos collected ever since she received “The Letter” as the occupants of the household have taken to calling it. 

She hadn’t ever bought the Prophet before the trial but was now ordering the morning and evening editions, combing the illustrious pages for any update on the trail. 

She didn’t have to look far most of the week, the whole ordeal was very popular and it was somehow broadcasted that Claire would be in attendance for the sentencing. She really didn’t get why people were making such a fuss about her, but she didn’t like it. All she wanted to do was bring Da home safely.

The evidence that Da’s lawyer was chalking up was the more exciting part, however. He actually found evidence of Peter Pettigrew being at large. He explained during Tuesday’s session that Pettigrew was an unregistered Animagus. To back this up, he brought in an eyewitness who testified to seeing Peter Pettigrew perform the deadly spell. 

After that, he showed never before seen pictures of the incident which had shown Da trying to talk down Pettigrew before being blown back by the blast of the spell. Tests were done in the courtroom and the pictures were proven to be taken November 1st, 1981, the day of the accident. 

Although none of them spoke, by the time the trial was adjourned for the weekend the general consensus within the Wizengamot seemed to be that Da did not kill anyone. One Elder even shook Da’s hand after Thursday’s session, telling the press that Monday would quite possibly bring “a man becoming innocent and another becoming wanted.” 

Despite all this evidence to prove he didn’t kill, there was still the issue of the final charges. Conspiring with Lord Voldemort and revealing the Potter’s whereabouts were saved for the sentencing session. Those would be discussed that day, but she knew not what the lawyer had to go against it. 

The clock beside her read twelve in the afternoon. She cursed and got up, seized her purse and sprinted out of the room. 

The sentencing started at twelve thirty. 

Kreacher stood by the fireplace, holding a silver pot of Floo powder. “Should I be prepared to be summoned ma’am?” 

Claire shook her head as she shoved on her boots. 

“No, no, relax Kreacher. I promise you’ll be the first to know what happens.” The elf nodded understandingly. 

She stepped into the sooty, cold fireplace and took a handful of powder from the outstretched bowl. “See you. The Ministry of Magic!” she threw the glittery, dust like particles onto the logs and watched as they ignited into tall, lapping green flames. 

With her breath held and her eyes tightly shut, Claire was enveloped in the flames, feeling the warmth of the transportation method all around her. Just as she was becoming uncomfortable, it stopped and she stepped forward. 

The hall she had been ejected into was large and cavernous. There were witches and wizards all around her, talking amongst themselves. 

One old, hunched warlock with a voice like thunder was conversing with a tired-looking, smartly dressed, young gentleman. “It is quite exciting, wouldn’t you say? I mean Sirius Black being liberated!” He clasped his hands together and Claire blushed. 

It’d probably be best if she donned her hat, which was a dark purple and pointy, matching the rest of her outfit. When the accessory was firmly secured on her head she integrated herself into the fast moving throng. 

It was at that moment that she realized she had no earthly clue where she was going.

Looking around frantically, she decided to ask the older witch next to her. 

“Excuse me madam?” The woman turned towards her, a quizzical then shocked expression on her face. 

“Oh my heavens, you’re Claire Black!” Claire shoved her hat lower onto her face.

“Do keep your voice down." she looked around warily for reporters. "I was wondering if you could guide me to where I can gain access to the court-” The woman cut across her.

“Courtrooms? Sure dear, I’m actually headed that way as well.” 

Claire raised an eyebrow. “That dedicated to the case are you?” 

The woman grabbed her arm, leading her away from the crowd and down an exponentially less noisy hallway. 

“It’s my job. I’m part of the Wizengamot.” Claire gasps and stops. 

Her hand thrust out to the witch. “I’m so sorry miss…”

“Bones. Amelia Bones.” they shook hands.

“Miss Bones. I really appreciate your department's determination to re-open Da’s case.” They continued down the hallway and started onto a flight of stairs. 

“Well after new legislation passed giving every person a right to a fair trial we just had to give the Blasted Black case another go." 

“All things aside, that is a very funny nickname.” Claire chuckled.

The witch smiled at her before stopping them at a door. “It is, isn’t it?” 

She opened the door slightly and turned back to Claire. 

“The Minister’s assistant will open this door again when the court is ready. Good luck Claire.” She disappeared behind it, leaving Claire alone in what she now realized was an all black stone hall, with a few benches and torches placed strategically throughout. 

She sighed and took off her hat, collapsing it then stuffing it into her bag. She then brought out a mirror and checked her hair, which was curled at the bottom and tied up at the top. 

Just as she was smoothing out a flyaway, she heard a cough not too far away. Her head whipped to the side and she saw a witch and a wizard with the brightest heads of red she’d ever seen. 

“Hello? Claire Black?” Claire rolled her eyes and threw her tools back into her bag. 

“I’m not doing any interviews, I’m just here for my Da.” 

The witch smiled and stepped forward. “We aren’t from a news outlet, dear. I’m Molly Weasley and this is Arthur Weasley. We’re good friends of Tabithat and Sirius.” 

Claire nodded, unsure of what to say. 

The man, Arthur spoke up. “Where is Tabithat, anyway?” 

A sharp pain traveled through Claire’s sternum and she looked down. “Dead. For eight years last month.” 

Molly gasped. 

Claire twisted the strap of her bag in her hands. She prayed they didn’t ask for more detail but lo and behold…

“How did she die? If you don’t mind.” This was a different voice, from the shadows.

The man who asked was shabby, in a word. His clothes had patches everywhere and he was very pale, like the moon. 

“And who are you?” Claire asked, forgoing manners as this was starting to become a little too stressful. 

“Remus Lupin.” The name didn’t ring a bell. 

“Well, Remus, she hadn’t been well ever since they took away Da and had a heart attack in her sleep. The coroner says it was stress.” 

All the unexpected visitors mumbled illegible expressions of sorrow. Claire just focused on a hangnail she had. 

“Are you all from the Order? Mummy told me stories about being in a group of rebels and you don’t look like most of the people who work here.” 

They all shared knowing looks and nodded. 

“Sirius was a fierce friend to me in school and after.” Remus spoke. “I watched Tabitha and he fall in love.” Now it was Claire’s turn to smile. 

Molly piped up.

“Tabithat was a midwife to me when I had my third oldest, Percy. He, erm, works for the Minister.” She became teary and Claire looked away. She didn’t like crying.

The door opens and a red head boy wearing horned spectacles holds it open. 

“Sentencing of Sirius Orion Black. Twelve-thirty, June 30th.” He read from a purple scroll. 

Molly gasped and reached out to him. “Percy. Percy darling please say you recognize your mum.” 

The man, Percy, looked down on the woman with an air of disgust.

“If everyone could please make their way to the right hand benches, I will need Remus Lupin to find the left hand benches.” 

Claire wasted no time in rushing into the room and in that same instant felt how large it was. There were black and red clad witches and wizards seated on the black wood benches that surrounded a large chair, which had chains floating ominously next to it. A large, dramatic stand stood closer than the benches though, and there sat Cornelius Fudge, the prime minister. 

The room buzzed with talk as she sat down, noticing that some of the Wizengamot were casting looks at her.

She became very interested in the fabric of her skirt. 

There was a great rumbling and then the room went terribly cold. So cold and empty that Claire involuntarily shivered. She was surprised that the fires still roared in pits behind the seats. 

And there he was.

Da was in between the source of the problem, two dementors. They had him by the forearms with their gnarled hands and his face was gaunt. It was clear he hadn’t had much to eat in years and if squeezed too hard he might turn to dust. His hair was matted and overgrown, a beard on him was obviously not a choice. His eyes looked dead when they met the Minister’s. 

She promised herself that if they released him she’d give him so many hugs and a haircut and shave the next day. 

The dementors sat him down and then left, the warmth returning to the room. The floating chains snaked around his legs and arms, binding him to the chair. 

The Minister cleared his throat and spoke. 

“Criminal hearing and sentencing into offenses allegedly committed by Sirius Orion Black. Interrogators Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley. Witness for the defense Sam Yeltik.” Fudge gestured to a green-robed wizard with a beard that Claire had not realized came up to Sirius. 

“The charges held against Mr. Black being reviewed today are as follows, that he did conspire to take down the Ministry and aide He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in waging war against the Wizarding world. And that he did knowingly expose the whereabouts of the Potter family, ultimately resulting in their deaths. Mr. Yeltik, how does Mr. Black plead?” 

“Not guilty on both counts.” The wizard stated. 

There was murmuring all around her. 

Fudge banged his gavel and the room fell silent again. “Opening statement?” The other wizard nodded, taking off his hat, probably to portray a somber look.

He began pacing behind Da.

“Sirius Black led a good-natured, Ministry adoring life. He had a wife whom he loved dearly and a one-year-old daughter that he regularly boasted he’d protect with his life. This little family were not troublesome, no sir not at all! Even their friends and other loved ones were clean as whistles. And to show you that Sirius would never commit these heinous crimes we the council would like to bring Remus Lupin to the stand.” 

Remus stood up and crossed the bench in front of her. Percy hurried up to Remus and quickly swore him to the truth, or at least that’s what Claire thought he did as it was at such a low volume. 

“Mr. Lupin had, before this attack, Mr. Black exhibited any signs of wanting to hurt the Potters?” Madame Bones quizzed. 

“None at all. He loved James and Lily. He’d escort them to places when they needed to go out and helped Albus Dumbledore secure their house when things got bad.”

She nodded. “Can you think of any reason at all that Mr. Black would’ve been convicted of doing this?” 

Lupin looked down and did not speak for a long time. And there were tears in his eyes when he did. 

“It is my personal belief, shared with anyone that really knew Sirius, that everyone involved wanted to close the case immediately because of how horrible it’s been painted to be. No one looked deeper, they only saw what they wanted to see. Sirius Black did not kill anyone and he certainly did not have a hand in killing the Potters.”

Lupin exhaled sharply, having gotten very heated when delivering that monologue. 

“Thank you, Mr. Lupin. No further questions.” Lupin nodded and sat down, pulling out a kerchief to dab his eyes with. 

Claire caught his eyes and mouthed a thank you. Lupin nodded then his face was frozen in horror. 

The defense had called in their second witness, Mayra Curio. 

A convicted Death Eater. 

Claire had heard about her. She was Voldemort’s closest confidant and number one hitman. Most of the higher class people that died in the war were killed by her. She was albino and looked much like Sirius in terms of overall well being. She was also covered in tattoos and piercings that were rumored to be self-inflicted.

Fudge’s jaw was on the floor. 

When he collected himself he sputtered out, “A-And what charge does Curio have a testimony for?”

“Collaborating with the Dark Lord against the Ministry, sir.” Curio whispered. Her voice was thick and Swedish. 

“Right then.” Fudge obviously didn’t like to even look at Curio, much less talk with her. He shuddered but quickly composed himself. 

“Erm, interrogation may begin.”

~

“Now that we the Wizengamot have heard all we need to, we are going to ask for all in the galley to exit the room. Weaslebee will come and get you when we have solidified our decisions." Claire gathered her purse and got up, shuffling awkwardly to get out of the row before venturing down to the level where Da was. 

The bloody lawyer stopped her with a hand.

“Sorry love, no talking to inmates while they’re on trial, it’s a conflict of interest.” She flicked away his hand and continued down the stairs, this time he grabbed her forearm. 

She tried to wriggle out of his grip but the man was very strong. 

“I’m his daughter!” she exclaimed, almost losing her cool air in fury. 

His eyes softened and his grasp slackened. 

“The court seems to have their mind made up, the delib shouldn’t be too long.” She nodded and turned, walking straight out the wooden door. 

She had questions for Lupin. 

“I can’t believe you actually got what is essentially Voldemort to say that Sirius and he were not and have never been acquainted. That move was the stuff of legends.” Lupin exclaimed, clapping Yeltik on the shoulder.

He sees Claire and his eyes brighten. 

“Claire! Can you believe the legal footwork out of this man?”

She smiles and laughs. 

“I have to! After what I just saw I think I want you representing the house of Black in the future.” She shakes the hand of the lawyer. “Anyway, can I talk to you Remus? Alone?” 

The man nods, guiding her down the hall a little. 

“What’s up, Claire?” He crossed his arms.

“I’d like to thank you for giving your testimony. I mean you didn’t have to yet you stuck your neck out there for him, for my Da.” 

Lupin smiled.

“Like I said in there, Sirius was like a brother to me and when he was arrested I knew something had to be done and wanted to help. I knew he was wrongfully taken from you and Tabs and that I wanted to help at some point in time. This trial allowed me to help hopefully set him free, to give him back to you and me.” 

“That rhymed.” Remus let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, yeah it did.” 

They stand in silence, thinking of the trial they’d just watched. Curio did give a pretty amazing testimony. She’d totally denied Da even entertaining the idea of fraternizing with a Death Eater, much less being close with the Dark Lord. Claire wondered how in the world Yeltik got her to testify and as she was thinking up reasons, the door opened once more. 

Lupin started towards it but Claire grabbed his jacket sleeve. 

“Can you sit with me? For the sentencing I mean?” 

Lupin nodded, gesturing for Claire to go in first. 

This was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed chapter two! The next one will largely feature the sentencing but also some lighthearted and wholesome moments. It will come out in the new year.


	3. 3.

As she stepped into the room again, she didn’t look at the Wizengamot. Her eyes were glued to Da. 

He hadn’t moved since the trial started, staring straight down into his lap. Claire prayed she’d know how to fix him if he’d be released. The thought of having Sirius bodily back but his soul being lost forever was almost too much to bear. 

“Will he be alright?” she inquired of Remus. The balding man sighed and pressed his lips together. 

“I think if he can get away from the presence of the dementors then he’ll make a good recovery.” Claire nodded, casting another look at Sirius. He wasn’t even blinking. Lupin continued, “But I trust you know that the mark Azkaban leaves on a man with his time logged isn’t one that is easily erased.”

Claire nodded. “I know.”

“Well, you have all the Order’s help behind you when you need it.” It was nice to know that this group of good people were as dedicated as her to making sure Sirius turned out alright. 

Fudge took his seat again and banged his gavel. 

“We the Wizengamot have thought long and hard on the outcome of the crimes Sirius Orion Black has been accused of. And we the Wizengamot have come to these conclusions.” 

Claire’s hands began to shake. Remus clasped them and although her heart was thumping loudly she felt more at peace. 

“On the charge of murdering twelve Muggles, we the Wizengamot find Mr. Black not guilty.” Lupin squeezed her hand and turned to whisper to Molly, who had yelped and bent over the pew behind them. 

Her gaze found Da’s, who had lifted from his thighs to around the room. 

She froze, didn’t know what to do or say except maintain eye contact until the next charge was announced. That murdering one had been a for-life charge but he still had four more charges totaling eighty years. 

The gavel banged again. 

“On the charge of killing a fellow wizard, Peter Pettigrew, we find Mr. Black not guilty.” Claire’s face remained of stone as Molly sobbed loudly. 

Sixty years is still well over how much time Da has on this earth. 

Fudge had given up on having a silent courtroom, simply continuing through the charges above the crying, scratching of reporter’s quills and the dense explosions of magical cameras. 

“On the charge of conspiring with the Dark Lord to bring down the ministry and fulfill his plan of magical world domination, we the Wizengamot find Sirius Black not guilty.” 

Only one charge left, and Claire could wait twenty years if this was the one he was proven to have done. 

Her hands had gone numb because of the ferocity in which she was gripping the wood in front of her. She smiled to herself and put her hands in her lap. 

“On the charge of knowingly exposing the whereabouts of the Potter family and causing their deaths, we the Wizengamot find Mr. Black not guilty.” Claire lost all restraint. 

Her heart ached with happiness as tears rolled off her cheeks and into her hands. Remus embraced her tightly. She felt hands pat her back as she continued to cry. 

Not everything was lost for she had a Dad again. 

“He is free! By Merlin he is free!” she exclaimed into the older man’s vest. He chuckled happily as Claire broke the hug and wiped away tears. 

With sweeping joy she realized that the trial was over, that it wasn’t a conflict of interest to see her Da. She picked her bag up and raced down the stairs. 

Fudge held up a hand to stop her for a second. 

“Mr. Black?” Da looked up at him again from where he was sitting, rubbing his thin wrists slowly. 

“Yes, Minister?” His voice was raspier than it had been and sort of hollow. 

“I believe someone very special is here to see you.” 

His hand gestured to Claire. 

Sirius follows the hand to Claire’s face. 

Recognition fills his eyes and he gasps, hands coming up to his face and tears twinkling in his eyes. Claire’s heart pounded in anticipation and smiled at Da. 

He smiled back, his teeth clearly in need of brushing but at the moment that didn’t matter. 

She would not make the first move, she’d promised herself that. 

“Clara.” He whispers, getting up from his chair with a strength she hadn’t seen the whole day. “Clara!” he exclaims, running over to Claire with his arms wide open. 

She closed the distance and wrapped her arms as tight as they’d go around his neck. He locked his arms around her waist and picked her up.

She let out a shriek of delight but made sure to put herself down quickly, for she knew this was just adrenaline strength and he had none in actuality. 

“I’ve missed you Da!” They embraced again. 

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been there for you.” he pulled back and took Claire’s hands. “I mean look at you now! Fifteen and looking more like me every day.” Claire smiled.

“You’re with me now.” He kissed her forehead. They stayed connected by their foreheads for some time until she heard people walking behind them. 

He rushed forward, Remus and the Weasleys had come to greet him. 

Remus and he shared a long tight hug and a whispered exchange that ended with another hug and pats on the back from the redheads before they waved goodbye and followed the throng of supporters and assistants out into the stone hallway. 

The courtroom was empty except for the two of them, the lawyer and Madam Bones. It was the lawyer who spoke first. 

“Congratulations on being liberated, my friend. You are the first of many who the best wizarding lawyers will free from sentencing to crimes they did not commit.” Claire connected her hand with Da’s. 

“Thank you, Yeltik. I’ll be in contact, as there is much to be done in the coming days and weeks.” The lawyer bowed slightly and only the click of his dress shoes and the squeak of the courtroom door were heard. 

Madam Bones then spoke. 

“My assistant has gathered your wand and clothes.” She rose and bent down to hand Da a dusty pile of dark patterns and velvet. His wand lay atop the pile and he ran forward, picking it up and holding it to his face. “The door on your left will give you privacy and when you are ready, I will guide you to the fires, where your daughter came in.”

“Thank you, Madame Bones.” Da’s wand parted with his face. “But first,” He waved his wand illustriously, and a bouquet of ambiance amaryllis flowers sprouted from the tip. He caught them and held them out to Claire. “The rarest flowers I can produce for my rare flower.” 

Claire smiled and took them, resting them in the crook of her arm. “Thank you, Da. Really, they’re beautiful. Now go change, we’ll have all the time in the world to gush about how much-” There was a blockage in her throat all of a sudden. “How much we’ve missed each other.” 

She put a hand to her mouth and willed herself not to cry. Da stroked her cheek once more than dashed off to the room. 

Madam Bones sat down again at her desk and Claire stared at her feet, listening to the scratch of a quill. The door Da went through creaked open again and he strutted towards her. 

“How do I look?” 

Da was dressed in green velvet pants and a matching starry suit jacket, with a slightly unbuttoned dark blue dress shirt underneath and black dress shoes. 

“Wow, your style is… eccentric.” Da laughs and slings an arm around Claire. 

“I dressed very quickly, Madame Bones, we are ready!” Bones nodded and put down her work, walking in time with them through the dungeon door. 

“To answer the door?” Da shook his head. 

“No, you’re remembering it, wrong darling. The leaders of the investigation came over for tea and as they were about to leave, arrested me.” 

Claire’s mouth hung open and she stopped walking. 

“You can’t be serious!” Sirius raised an eyebrow and chuckled. 

Claire had no clue what he was laughing about until she thought about what she had said. “Oh don’t say it! That’s not what I meant!” 

Da was now laughing heartily and choked out, “But I am Sirius!” 

This time Claire joined in and laughed even more when he scooped her up again and placed her on the stairs. 

“Race you?” Sirius asked, lunging onto the second stair.

“Are you five?” Claire asked incredulously. 

“Always with the questions, my love. Anyway, the last one to the top has to prank Mummy!” 

He started off on the stairs but Claire stayed rooted to the step. 

“Da!” she called, he had already rounded the bend. “Da come back!” His gaunt face poked around the corner. He walked down a few stairs. “Mummy’s dead. For eight years.” 

His eyes had been happy, mischievous even, before Claire had said that. He descended the stairs slowly, stopping on the one above Claire’s. “I’m sorry I didn’t know how to contact you when it happened and assumed they’d tell you anyway-”

He hugged her. 

Softly, through her left ear, she heard a wavery, teary voice say, “I know. I know I’m sorry you were alone for that.” 

“How do you know?” He pulled back and held her waist, the two of them ascending the stairs.

“Your mum would write to me every single day, telling me what you two did and things you said that reminded her of me. I was the one to reveal the cause of your white hairs.”

“Poliosis.” 

Da nodded. 

“Yes, I have it too but not as widespread.” When Claire really looked at his hair she could see strands of white originating from the crown of his head. “Anyway one day, eight years ago the letters stopped coming in. Then soon after Remus began writing to me. Well, he had been but after the death, I assume, he took over Mummy’s daily letter writing. I knew something had happened but never asked anyone.” 

“Why?” 

They had reached the top of the stairs and were in the hallway. Claire could hear the reporters nearby. 

“I suppose I didn’t want to face her being gone and you being alone. I was terribly selfish and I’m sorry.” He locked his arm with Claire’s.

“I forgive you Da. Really, I do. I couldn’t have bared the hell you did but please know that-” she had that blasted blockage in her throat again. “I love you and am so incredibly happy you’ve come back.”

“I love you too darling.” Da was teary again. 

“And- and I don’t like crying but I will cry with you. I will heal with you. I’ll move forward with you and do everything I can to make sure our time together is whole and glorious. Because that’s what you’d do for me. And if not for me then for Mummy.” 

Da hugged her once more, this one the fiercest yet. She returned the energy and sighed. 

This may be easier than previously thought. 

“Shall we leave this hellhole and never return?” 

Claire dabbed her eyes with the pads of her fingers and nodded, guiding Da through the archway and into the filled Atrium. 

Applause came from all around them and so did camera flashes. Questions were thrown at the flushed pair of faces. 

Madame Bones was in front of them, shunting reporters aside with repelling charms. 

“Quite the popular duo, aren’t we?” Da joked to the gaggle of news people. 

They laughed then resumed their incessant picture taking and question-asking.

They arrived at the fireplace. 

Claire muttered, “One last photo op?” Da nodded and they turned, smiling in their side-embrace. 

After a short while, they thanked Madame Bones with nods, which she returned and, as if planned, simultaneously jumped backward into the roaring green flames and shouted “Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!”


	4. 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for the wait but here it is! This chapter was hard to write, as most of the expositon is. I can't wait until we can actually give the relationship you're reading for some steam. As always, if you see areas in my writing where the story can be improved or want to get in contact with me, please use the comment section of any chapter or direct message me. Thank you for reading <3

It had been six days since they’d arrived home to a gleeful Kreacher. He had prepared a wonderful feast and hadn’t stopped since then. Da wasn’t mad though, he had been starving and had only recently developed the normal appetite. 

He and Claire regularly enjoyed Kreacher’s blackberry macarons, they’d been Tabithat’s favorite dessert. The first time Kreacher presented them to Da was when they’d just arrived at home. He had promptly burst into tears and didn’t stop for two days straight. 

He’d only fully stopped crying last night when Claire got him to dance with her to a Weird Sisters concert on the radio. Since then she’d been distracting him every waking moment. For fear of hearing his sobs again or for the fact she had no clue how to console a grieving ex-Azkaban resident, she didn’t know. Perhaps a combination. 

This morning they had tackled Da’s hair, which involved lots of detangling spells and a few baths on his part before they set it in a plait, Remus was coming over to cut it the following day. Claire had laid out her plan for getting him back to his former glory and he flat out denied Claire cutting his hair. He insisted only Remus knew how to do it, and Claire didn’t question it.

It was now the afternoon and Claire was showing Da how to braid grass and make yellow rose garlands, at his request of course. He wanted happy things in the house and Claire was an expert in grass braiding, flower crowns, garlands and other natural decorations. The entire lawn was sweetgrass (the perfect type to braid).

“Then she says Sirius what on earth are you doing with our child?” His head dropped back as a chortle escaped his throat. 

“You were about to put me in a cauldron full of potion ingredients! I can see why’d that be alarming!” Claire examined his braid as Da continued.

“I just wanted to send Lily a good photo of you!” He held up one of her baby pictures. About half an hour ago, Da had retrieved photographs of Claire’s early life and her parents. 

Claire was sitting on a gingham blanket with another baby who had a tuft of black, unruly hair on the top of his head. They were both laughing and Claire was reaching off camera. 

“Who was I reaching for?” She pointed at her chubby arms. 

Da smiled. “Your mum. You and her were inseparable ever since she popped you out.”

Claire smiled and plucked more grass from the ground, weaving it into the strand. “We were that way for the rest of her life. And even now.” A breath of wind tickled her neck and she lifted her face, feeling it until it went away. 

“How do you mean darling?” Da asked as he slowly copied her with his own grass string. 

“I feel her around me sometimes. When I have questions or want her presence again I conduct seances and conjuring spells.” It was a regular occurance that usually took place in the study. She’d done it for years on her own now and was quite good at filtering out other sprites (both good and bad). Now that Claire thought of it, the chalk conjuring circle might still be there under the carpet. 

“Claire! That’s witchcraft!” Da cried. 

“If you haven't noticed, we are pureblood witches and wizards.” She replied snarkily, wondering what on Earth he was playing at. 

Da stumbled to his knees and took out his wand. It shook as he made a circle with his arm, his eyes frantically casting scared looks around the garden. 

“There are Muggles all around us, do keep your voice down!” Claire waved off his worried and attack ready stance. 

“Kreacher has repelling, invisibility and muting enchantments on the hedges. We’re fine! Keep your braiding tighter or the rose stems’ll fall out.” You could get murdered in broad daylight under these enchantments and no one on the block would know. 

“I can’t believe you’re so casual about this!” He dropped his head into his hands then looked up. 

“Seances and summoning are for demon and deity worshipping Pagan muggles who think blood sacrifice and burning of good sage will grant them half the magical energy those of us lucky enough to be born with those properties hold so dear!” Da was spitting mad, more cross than Claire had seen him. 

“No matter their conceptualizers, these ceremonies work!” Claire crawled over to Da and took his hands. “I’ve done my research, asked questions only she could know, asked for her to do things only she can do! I am talking to Mummy’s soul!”

“That may be true but you could be trapping her from moving on. You are stopping yourself from moving on!” Claire had to admit she never thought of that before. Could she be unintentionally keeping Mummy’s soul prisoner?

She’d determine that later. Right now she had an argument to win. “It’s all I had! What, are you going to tell me there’s a Wizarding way to have the conversations and experiences I have with Mummy?”

“No, because there is no way to contact the dead! No way that a fifteen year old should be dabbling in anyway. Magic, true magic, that doesn’t do detrimental harm to the living and dead, to contact, see or talk to the dead does. Not. Exist.” 

Claire threw down her braid and stood, throwing a scalding look at Da and a slight snarl before running back into the house. She could hear Kreacher bustling around in the basement, probably making tonight’s dinner.

She thought he’d understand, or at least be open to understanding. Even though it would have been nice for him to accept her coping methods, his reaction didn’t hurt her. No matter what he said she would still continue when the need arose if his trapping hypothesis wasn’t true. If it was she’d obviously stop and help Mummy move on. It also hurt her that he thought she loved Muggle magic imitations.

Claire wasn’t a Death Eater by any means but she never associated with non-magical people if she could avoid it. She pitied them. To live without magic? Claire loved the world she was born into and the gifts she’d been bestowed. Having magical blood is a monopoly. If it was a choice then Claire would be disgusted by the thought of non-magical people yet no one, not even people with the purest of blood could guarantee their children to have the gift. The whole muggle and muggle born hating viewpoint was the epitome of wizarding stupidity in Claire’s mind. 

Da would have known about her difficult opinion if he had been around. He’d probably join her in her ceremonies if only he’d been around when she died. If he’d seen what Claire saw, felt how suddenly her mother was parsecs away and how terribly alone she felt. That seemed to be what seperated Father and daughter from truly understanding each other. That horrible day. 

Claire didn’t know how to dissolve the barrier. Perhaps Remus would have suggestions. They are very good friends and surely had to get past things to coexist. Yes, Claire decided, she’d ask him tomorrow and see what he had to say. 

She had arrived at her room, the door on which had her name inscribed in tiny cursive silver letters. Within the walls were papered in cream colored linen with lifesize diagrams of the human body printed on them. Ink notes and doodles filled the empty spaces with factoids Claire wanted to remember. 

Her canopy bed was in the nearest left corner, the ornate black-and-silver canopy, pillows and blankets clashing wonderfully with the rest of the bright room. Beside that was a spindle-legged table holding several books, one of her thick journals, and a candle. 

The entire near right wall was a black bookcase filled with all manner of books covering different subjects from the ceiling to the wood floors. Every so often a plant or a model’s stand held up books. In that same corner was her black leather fainting couch, a gift from her mother on her seventh birthday. 

The wall furthest from the door was largely taken up by a full length arched window. Thick black curtains framed it and a large wood desk obscured the bottom half of the window from view. A cream wingback chair sat in front of it. The left side of that wall was another bookshelf and the remaining space on the wall next to it was taken up by a large chalkboard. Arithmetic problems and theories were scribbled in her tiny writing all over the reusable material. 

A large rectangular cream carpet lay in the exact center of the room, the family motto ‘toujours pur’ surrounding the Black crest. Other small ones scattered the room yet this one was the largest. 

For lighting, a sterling silver chandelier hung in the center of the ceiling, the candles it was holding snuffed out for the day. 

As she fell onto the fainting couch and searched the bookcase nearby for her comfort book, ‘Paisley Bubblebrew and the Wart Plague’ she felt a tear slip down her cheek. She huffed and took the children’s mystery book off the shelf. 

As she shifted to lay away from the window behind the couch, another salty drop fell onto the brown leatherbound cover. She brushed it off the cover and willed herself to focus on the page she’d previously bookmarked. 

'The warts were big, green and itchy things, unlike any Healer had ever seen. And they weren’t superficial either. The green killers lined their victims' organs and orifices.'

She had read up on the ceremonies for years. There wasn’t ever a risk of trapping someone in your realm so why would Da, the wizard with near perfect N.E.W.T. scores say such a thing?

'And they weren’t superficial either. The green killers lined their victims’ organs and orifices.'

It had been years since her death. It might be good for her to stop the ceremonies, now that she was living with and speaking to adult humans again. 

'The green killers lined their victims’ organs and orifices.'

Guilt was beginning to line her organs and clear salty guilt leaked out of her eyes. Mummy probably wanted to rest and here Claire was, treating her like a book. She loved her and yet she was forcing her to manifest, which took a lot of energy. 

The book page blurred and her hands dropped it then went limp. The tears were joined by small sobs, which Claire stifled with a ring clad hand. A sharp pain ebbed where her heart was and her ribs expanded and decompressed uncomfortably against the corset she wore. 

Crying wasn’t comfortable, it was ugly and most of all was weak. Claire hated it with everything in her. The tears got worse when she thought of the man downstairs. This isn’t how she wanted things to be. 

Her only living family was cross with her and didn’t understand her. Didn’t want to understand her. It was apparent that the only way to go was to stop. If Da had to move on then she would too. 

Later, perhaps at dinner, she’d try to explain, tell him that she would be stopping, that he didn’t have to be cross with her anymore. Perhaps that would fix things. It would have to because Claire knew not what to do otherwise. 

Though it felt like minutes, the room was now orange. Bright sherbert sunlight was crawling down the wall. The sun was setting. Claire sat up and turned. She sat on her heels and looked out the window. 

The backyard was a sea of long emerald green grass. Her legs forced her to rise and walk over to the window, perching her hands on the desk. A small patch of the land was bare and lined with a yellow line. Da had finished the first garland. Speaking of him, he was nowhere to be found. In his place was a large black dog, sitting on it’s haunches. 

Claire marveled at how it got back there. The house had no side entrances and the borders should repel non magical beings. 

This dog was a magical being. 

She rushed out of her room and down the stairs, calling for Da. No response. 

She had no wand and could only perform magic when experiencing very powerful emotions. If it came to it she could try to preform defensive spells but that wouldn’t be reliable. Where was Da?

The dog got up as Claire crept out to the backyard. “I have an elf! A-and I’m not afraid to hex you! Reveal yourself!” The dog simply panted. “Speak!”

The dog barked once. 

It was prancing up to her now. “That’s not what I-hey!” The dog ran inside the house through the ajar door. Claire immediately chased after it. It was incredibly fast and her corset prevented her from having the breath to keep up with it. She groaned in frustration as it ran around the corner. 

“Get back here!” She yelled, her breath back again. She stormed around the corner and cracked her fingers. “Alright we can do this the...easy way.” There was Da, standing in the middle of the hallway adjusting his ‘The Bent-Winged Snitches’ t-shirt. “Da?”

He looked up and smirked. “Well hello, in a better mood, are we?” Claire scoffed. 

“Splendid.” she crossed her arms. “Did you see a black dog run through here? I don’t know how it got in and it’s acting very strange.” She scanned behind the man for any sign of the dog and there was none. 

“No,” He coughed, leaning against the wall. Claire noticed he was sweating. “You didn’t use magic on it did you?” 

Claire shook her head. “No, no of course not.”

“Good… erm… shall we see what Kreacher’s preparing then?” He asked with the look of a child who’d been caught in the act of something mischievous. Da was definitely hiding something. He wouldn’t stop shuffling and he was still sweating. 

“Is there something you need to tell me, Da?” Claire advanced on her father, who’s eyes went wide. He gulped loudly. 

“N-no?” He sqeaked.

“Just say it, it can’t be that bad.” Da paced past her, his hands visibly shaking now. 

“Alright, alright!” He turned and threw up his hands.“I can turn into a dog!” 

“Oh. Oh!” She smiled, Animagi were such an interesting magical anomaly and she’d only ever read about them. “So you’re an Animagus?” Da’s entire demeanor relaxed and he stopped pacing. 

“Well… yes, essentially.” Claire dug into her side pocket and found her journal and quill. She sat down on an ottoman against the wall. 

“Does this mean I’m one as well? How do you switch forms?” Da chuckled and plopped down next to her. 

“Well I wasn’t born one.” she took note of it. 

“Did you develop it over time or…” she cast a side glance at Da who smiled nervously and inched away from her. “Oh Da you didn’t!” Her head fell into her hands. He had somehow made himself become an Animagi which was very illegal. “You’ve just been released from prison! What if you’re found out and thrown back in?”

“I’ve been one since I was thirteen, I think I’ve got it down pat.” Claire shut her journal and shoved it back into her pocket. 

“Thirteen? Why on Earth were you trying to be one that young?” She looked up at Da who sighed. 

“Please don’t allow this to change your opinion of him but Remus is a werewolf.” a chill went through her body. It didn’t scare her, yet she did now recall the unexplained scars on Remus’s face and got chills when things came together. 

“Alright… what does it have to do with you being an Animagus?” Claire leaned back on the wall. 

“We, I mean to say my friends James and I, caught him coming back from a transformation and found out. We camped out in the library for two days until McGonagall gave us permission to read up on becoming Animagi. After that we slowly developed our forms and eventually surprised Remus with his new personal bodyguards. Padfoot and Prongs.” Claire smiled, her Da was a truly fierce friend.   
“I assume you’re Padfoot? And this James is Prongs?” Da nodded. He opened his mouth to speak again when the doorbell rang, echoing through the home. “Did you invite someone?” 

“No, no I didn’t.” He stood and rounded the corner. Claire followed quietly. They made their way to the door and Da procured his wand again, settling into a dueling stance before whipping open the door. 

He was tall, old and gripping a staff that matched his black travelling cloak. Underneath horned spectacles, blue eyes sparkled. He smiled at Da’s protective measure. Da’s entire demeanor relaxed and he rushed forward to shake the hand of the elderly wizard. 

“Professor Dumbledore, how good to see you!” Claire stopped. Professor Dumbledore? Why did that name sound so familiar?

“Sirius, good to see you, my friend. How is life at home?” He stepped over the threshold and removed his travelling cloak to reveal dark blue robes, a film of gold chiffon draped over the striking fabric. 

“Alright, your robe is impeccable!” Dumbledore looked over his half moon glasses. 

“Ah, thank you! Madam Malkin never ceases to outdo herself, yes?” Da nodded earnestly. Dumbledore caught Claire’s eyes. 

“Madam Black! Wonderful to finally make your aquanitence.” He smiled.

“Wonderful to meet you Professor.” Claire extended a hand and Dumbledore shook it earnestly. “I recognized your name from somewhere but can’t quite pinpoint it…” 

“Perhaps you know me from when your parents were in my wartime rebel group, the Order of the Elements. Or possibly from stories told when reminiscing upon their time at school, the institution in which I am headmaster. ” It dawned on her. This was the greying man in the group photos her Mother gave her. 

“The days of the Order!” Dumbledore smiled and let go of her hand. “Hold on, Da and Mummy went to a wizarding school?” Dumbledore’s smile faded and cast a stony, testing look at Da. 

“Well yes of course, my child! Anyone who wants to be anyone goes to school.” Her cheeks felt hot and she avoided the headmaster’s striking eyes. “Of course homeschooling is an option but from the amount of books I see on this floor you aren’t one to pass up the chance on more education.” he added quickly. She chuckled slightly in an attempt to diffuse the tension growing. 

“Right you are, Dumbledore, there has to be a thousand in the house. Now,” he clapped his hands together and Kreacher appeared with a pop. “Kreacher will prepare some tea for us in the drawing room.” Dumbledore took off his pointed hat. 

“Delightful.” Da beamed. 

“If you’ll follow me, Professor.” He quickly swung open the door and gestured for the man to go into the room. As Dumbledore strode in Claire grabbed Da’s arm.

“I’m stopping the rituals.” she hissed between her teeth. “Even if it’s doing Mummy no harm I have to move on because now you’re back.” Da’s mouth curved slightly and he nodded. 

“Good for you, sweetheart.” He cradled her head and quickly kissed her forehead. Claire smiled. If giving up time with mom was going to make this a regular thing, Claire would give up so much more. “Now please stay with me during this visit, you’re going to want to hear it.”

“Alright.” She walked through the threshold and followed Da to a plush red couch across from Dumbledore’s chair, which he looked pleasantly comfortable in. 

“Claire, pray tell what brand is this chair? It’s unnaturally comfortable.” Claire cleared her throat. 

“I’m not sure sir, Kreacher found it in the family vault and whatever tag it had is long done away with.” The professor frowned.

“A shame. Anyhow, business presses us. As you may have heard, Harry Potter has seen Voldemort return.” Claire’s breath caught in her throat and she gripped the arm of the couch. It was impossible, he was dead as the house elves that hung on the walls. 

“Good Helena!” Da exclaimed. 

“How? I thought he had died from the curse rebounding!” Claire gasped. Dumbledore simply shook his head. 

“Do you really believe the most powerful Dark wizard in the world wouldn’t have alphabets of backup plans? Sirius, you told me she was smart!” Dumbledore chuckled. 

“I am, though I admit I don’t exactly study government and power.” she retorted. “Anyhow, he’s back. That’s bloody terrifying. What are we to do?” 

“I am reviving the Order. It shall be the Order of the Phoenix and I want you two involved.” Da sputtered and put his arm around Claire’s shoulders. 

“Terribly sorry, Dumbledore, it sounded as though you said ‘you two’. As in my fifteen year old daughter!” He laughed dryly and Claire noticed his arm tighten around her.

“You made no mistake, Sirius, I did mean both you and Claire. So long as Claire accepts my offer.” Claire sat up even straighter. 

“What would that be, sir?” Dumbledore leaned forward and pulled an envelope from his robe pocket. 

“Come to Hogwarts.” He slid the envelope across the mahogany tea table. The red wax seal glistened slightly, as though just pressed. The seal was curious. A large H was surrounded by a raven, a badger, a lion and a serpent within an ornate shield.

“Why must I go to Hogwarts to be part of the Order?” She felt forced, exposed and rushed. Her heart thumped in her chest.

“Yes, why, Dumbledore?” Da removed his arm and threaded his hands together, placing them on his crossed knees and a scowl upon his lips. “Just when we have reunited and begun to acquaint ourselves with the content yet quiet life, why on Godric’s green earth are you asking for my daughter?” 

There was a creak and Kreacher crept into the room with a biscuit and tea laden tray. Claire began pouring tea into cups for each of them. 

“I will admit, it is not absolutely essential for the survival of good for Claire to attend my school however,” he nearly yelled the last word, as they had both begun to utter sounds of protest and confusion. “She will be safe and will learn and make friends who aren’t related to her by blood.” Da merely took his cup, hand shaking so much the saucer made a tinkling sound against the china. 

Claire put down the pot and looked at Da, then Dumbledore. “If this is to turn into war, and let us pray it will not, safety would be a blessing. As for friends, I don't need any! I have Da.” The old man stroked his long beard. 

“All very valid arguments, what is your rebuttal to the enhanced education?” Claire huffed and started. 

“Well I,” her tongue pressed between her teeth. “I have enough books for a full education so-” 

“Yes exactly, she has thousands of books here! Probably more than at Hogwarts!” Claire nodded, how could Dumbledore fight that fact? 

“Sirius you must be aware that books do not give one a full education.” He tittered slightly then whipped his head to Claire. 

“Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to touch a unicorn, to actually hold a Niffler? To live in a castle so teeming with magic it is alive!” He grasped her hands.

“I don’t want to be a magizoologist but yes… I’ve read that they’re deadly fun, Nifflers.” She looked down at his wrinkly hands. 

“As I said, it is not pertinent you come to serve in the Order yet I boldly argue it is essential you try to stay, if you want to be any measure of a witch.” Dumbledore had made a point.

Claire would love to study Hogwarts, to see the school she read about. 

“I’ll think about it… truly.” She whispered. 

She hadn’t lied. As she placed the letter on her desk and reached for her letter opener an hour later, her entire body tingled as if whatever that letter had to say, even the act of reading it, would change her life forever. For better or for worse.

**Author's Note:**

> Please bear in mind that this is my first AO3 work and I'm still refining my writing style. If you have any suggestions, don't hesitate to leave them in the comments. The next part will be up soon!


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